Elysium
by Aeridas
Summary: A narrative of the Skyllian Blitz on Elysium and how Shepard became a hero. My personal interpretation of the Blitz. Female Shepard with paragon tendencies. T for violence/language.
1. Deference for Darkness

**Disclaimer:** This story is based in Bioware's universe of Mass Effect. I do not own any of the characters, names, or places from the Mass Effect universe. This is simply my interpretation of the events that took place on Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. All original characters and places are of my own creation, and all errors or inconsistencies are of course my own fault.

**Deference for Darkness**

2170 CE  
Norton Colonial Farming Community, Mindoir, 0323 GST

The screams.

The screams were endless.

Elin had never heard anything like it before. Sure kids would scream when they were running wild on the playground, and Jason screamed when they'd watched that horror vid on the extranet; but not like this.

Not like this.

The worst part was that she couldn't tell the difference between the men and the women and the children. Noises were being torn from their throats, keening shrieks that ranged from fear to pain to despair. Some managed to form words like _"Mommy!" _or _"NO! Please!'' _Others were formless, long drawn out wails that cut off abruptly when... no, she didn't want to think about that.

They all stopped eventually.

The last shriek had died away to a low whimper, and then silence had descended on the darkness of the barn. She didn't know how long she laid there, hiding in the straw, and the dirt, and the muck, and the stink. Could have been a minute, an hour, a whole year even, but she couldn't bring herself to move, to come out of hiding. A horse whickered worriedly in the stall next to the one she was hiding in, and she flinched for the noise had been loud in the deafening silence. Her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her chest, and the blood pounded in her ears. Surely someone would hear the beat, someone would hear the pounding and the batarian slavers would find her and then she'd be screaming too. Tears slid down her grime covered cheeks and she bit the knuckles on her right hand to keep herself from sobbing aloud.

More time passed, and Elin still didn't know how long. The straw was poking through her clothes and she was getting increasingly uncomfortable sitting on the cold, hard dirt of the empty horse stall. It was so dark, she couldn't even tell if her eyes were open or shut. She could hear something though, very faint. At first she thought it might be one of the horses, but it continued to get louder and it wasn't any noise a horse would make.

It was artificial.

An engine.

Her heart froze in her chest.

_Chunk-a-chunk-a-chunk-a_

The batarians must have realized their mistake. They'd never checked the barn. Now they were coming back.

_They've come back for me. _

_Chunk-a-chunk-a-chunk-a_

As the engine roar grew, she still couldn't make herself move. She couldn't bring herself to leave the relative safety of the barn even when she knew the game was up.

The engines were deafening now, it sounded as if they were going to land right on top of the barn and crush it into oblivion. She almost wished they would, it would mean she wouldn't have to scream like the others. All of a sudden the sound stopped, and then there was the whoosh of a hydraulic door sliding away and the murmur of voices, muffled from where she sat. They were going to find her, she had to run, she had to go... but she couldn't move. The barn door creaked open and a dim orange light filled the darkness, cut by the surgical brightness of an assault rifle's tactical lamp as the beam traced back and forth, searching... searching...

"Alliance Marines. We're here to help, is anyone there?"

Elin jumped at the sudden and loud female voice, the straw rustled, conspicuously noisy. It betrayed her. The tactical beam fell on the stall where she was hiding, the white light blazing through the cracks in the wooden boards. Then the stall door was pushed open and Elin threw her hands up in front of her eyes, it was too bright, it hurt. They were going to take her away now, and she was going to have to scream like the others. A pitiful, desperate sob escaped her lips, and she hated herself for it.

"Please..." She whimpered. "Don't hurt me." It was absolutely disgusting. The combat armor made the woman look bigger than she actually was, as she went down on her knee in front of Elin. She took her helmet off, revealing that she actually _was_ human and this wasn't a trick. Completely, and beautifully human.

"Hey," She made shushing noises as she gently placed a hand on Elin's trembling shoulder. "Its alright kid, you're safe now. I'm with the Alliance, my name's Sara Gomez. Everything's going to be alright."

Sara. Her name was Sara, just like her mother. Elin had left her behind. They had been running from the shelter because the slavers had found it and Sara Shepard had fallen, snagged her foot on a rock or something. Elin hadn't even stopped to help her, she'd been too scared. Even when her mother called after her, screamed for her to come back and help her, Elin had kept running. Then her screams had become like the others.

She never even looked back.

The Sara in front of her was speaking to someone on her radio, she had taken her hand from Elin's shoulder and was holding it to her ear now. As Elin listened to the one sided conversation she felt an odd squirming sensation in her stomach. It took her a second to realize it was shame.

"Sarge, its Gomez. I've got a survivor here in the barn."

_In the barn, with the animals... like an animal._

"No, just the one brave soul."

_Just the one coward who ran away and left everyone else to die. _

"Right, hang on. What's your name kid."

_Tell her your name coward._

"E... Elin Shepard." She managed to stutter it out.

"Shepard, Elin." Gomez said, talking to the radio again. "Check the colonial manifests and see if she's got any surviving family."

_She didn't. They were all dead. She'd left them to die. She should be dead too, it was what she deserved... _She just couldn't bring herself to say it out aloud.


	2. Grounded

**Disclaimer:** This story is based in Bioware's universe of Mass Effect. I do not own any of the characters, names, or places from the Mass Effect universe. This is simply my interpretation of the events that took place on Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. All original characters and places are of my own creation, and all errors or inconsistencies are of course my own fault.

**Grounded**

2176 CE (7 years before the events of Mass Effect)  
Elysium, 0800 hours, GST (galactic standard time)

Lieutenant Elin Shepard groaned slightly as the piercing tones of the bedside alarm jarred her out of a deep sleep. She took a second to disentangle her arm from the twisted sheet, before smacking the offending device and silencing it. The morning sun streaked through the half closed blinds of the windows, the light falling slantwise across the bed as she sat up stiffly. She opened bleary eyes to take in the still somewhat unfamiliar surroundings and rubbed at the muscles between shoulder and neck with her right hand.

_That's right_, she thought. _Hotel room. _The barracks at Rendar Base on Elysium were being refitted, and she was one of quite a few Alliance personnel on leave who'd been given a hotel room off base for the duration of the refit. She wondered if the poor quarters were some form of unspoken punishment from the brass for telling off Captain Davidson several weeks ago while aboard the _SSV Dunkirk. _Shepard was still embarrassed by her own outburst, but the man's inability to effectively deploy the _Dunkirk's_ fireteam had nearly gotten the five man squad killed, herself included. The near death experience and the fact that the man then had the nerve to lecture her on the finer points of tactical deployment had taken her temper over the edge and the normally quiet and reserved N7 infiltrator had _loudly_ informed the captain where he could shove his tactical deployment. The corner of her lips twitched upward as she remembered the startled look on Davidson's face before snaffling off a salute and stalking away to the showers in a huff.

She rolled off the side of the mattress and reached her fingers toward the ceiling, a low sigh escaping her lips as muscles, stiff and tight from several nights sleep on the sub-par mattress, stretched out, releasing tension with that "oh-so-good" feeling. She shook out her shoulders and then crossed the tiny room in three strides to enter the bathroom. She took a short, hot shower to help loosen the muscles further. As she toweled off, she looked at the mirror, always slightly taken aback by how much she resembled her mother. Her dark, burnt orange hair, a legacy from her Dublin born grandmother, was cut at her jaw and the sea-green eyes that stared back at her from the mirror were so much like her mother's that sometimes the memory of it hit hard enough to knock her off her guard. But Sara and Jim Shepard were six years dead, and she tried not to think about Mindoir if she didn't have to.

Even though she was on leave, Elin still dressed in the blue fatigues of an Alliance Navy marine as she owned only two civvie outfits. In fact she had remarkably few personal possessions that didn't pertain to her job. After losing everything on Mindoir it was easier to simply move on with life when it all fit into a single, Alliance standard issue duffel bag. She reached for one of those possessions now, a well worn leather bound book that had belonged to her father. It was James Joyce's, _Ulysses, _and had been Jim Shepard's favorite. She always took some time to read through the novel on her shore leave as if it were some ritual attempt to keep his laughing memory alive. She tucked the book and her datapad under one arm so she could buckle on her side arm and checked to make sure she had all other essential items, mainly her ID, key card to the room, and her credit chit. Satisfied, Shepard left her room, nodding courteously to the man behind the main desk in the lobby, and stepped out into the crisp, early morning light.

Elysium was one of the Alliance's oldest colonies, it had a modest population of several million people, half of which were non-human. Located at the "crossroads" of multiple primary and secondary mass relays, the colony itself had become a massive hub for trade and commerce in the Verge. Thousands of beings passed through the space port on business ventures of numerous kinds on a daily basis. Because of this, security measures were tight, and getting through port security was always a nightmare, even for an Alliance soldier. Shepard had spent a few hours herself waiting to get through security when she had arrived on Elysium at the start of her leave three days ago.

Her hotel was not far from the port and as she walked out towards the street, Elin could see the bustling crowds moving to and from the port transport station. Transport speeders hovered away, navigating the skylanes with ease while a few, more conventional cars sped away on the streets. Apparently automobiles (not counting necessary military vehicles) were a human oddity in the galaxy. A sign that home-grown human technology reflected the youth of its species. At least that is what the Turian barkeep at The Black Hole had argued the other night. Though she had a sneaking suspicion the barkeeper had been taking shots when no one was looking, he'd been particularly chatty... for a Turian at least.

Shepard made her way down the busy streets, past shops with glowing neon signs advertising omni-gel convertors and the latest in omni-tool tech. The crowds of shoppers and crew from the visiting ships at the space port weren't as heavy now as they would be in a few hours. She picked out a few other Alliance personnel in the passersby, marked by the dark, navy blue of fatigues like her own, or the more formal uniform of an officer on duty.

After a few minutes more of walking, Elin entered a local cafe, one she'd frequented every morning since she'd arrived. It was a popular, but quaint establishment run by an Asari and several of her sisters. Shepard seated herself at a table in the back that gave her a clear view of the room and its patrons along with every entrance,. She hardly even noticed the standard training taking over at a subconscious level anymore. It was quite simply an ingrained habit. One of the Asari waitresses wandered over to take her order.

"Coffee, black." Elin said, but before the waitress could leave the table another voice interrupted.

"Make that two coffees." A man's voice said, "And put em on my tab, Salora." The Asari gave the newcomer a knowing grin as Shepard arched a brow at him in dawning recognition, mentally subtracting two years from his face. He hooked one foot around the leg of a chair and jerked it away from the table before seating himself without invitation.

"Lieutenant Plunkett." She said, her voice neutrally cool.

"Lieutenant Shepard." He was smirking, just like he always used to, and that alone grated on her nerves more than he could imagine or maybe he could imagine it, and was laying it on thicker than usual. Salora returned with their coffees and vanished quickly after sensing the frosty air around the table. Plunkett's eyes followed her retreating back with a thinly suppressed interest that made Elin roll her own.

She watched with mild irritation as he took his time blowing on the scalding hot liquid before taking a cautious sip. Luke Plunkett had been a source of aggrivation for Elin since the day they'd began training together in the N7 program at the academy on Arcturus Station. The comradely relationship they'd developed on first acquaintance had turned painfully competitive as they both rose to the top of their class, and then spent weeks upon weeks of grueling training continually trying to one-up each other. His displeasure at graduating second to a farm girl like Shepard had been evident, and even now when they no longer had to deal with each other on a regular basis, the chilly competitiveness persisted.

"Is there something I can help you with Plunkett?" She said as he took another sip. He set the mug down with a loud clunk of ceramics hitting the table. His brown eyes, the same mousy brown color of his hair seemed to be mirroring that annoying smirk of his lips.

"Just thought you'd want to know that as of twenty minutes ago Fleet Command assigned me to the _SSV Waterloo_." Shepard's teeth ground together painfully as she clenched her jaw, a horrible habit that gave away her anger... one she was also trying to break. She had expressed interest in the open SpecOps posting on the frigate, _Waterloo._ It wasn't so much that she hadn't received the post that angered her, but that it had been assigned to Plunkett of all people.

"Did you buy me coffee just so you could gloat?" She said through clenched teeth. He sipped the offending drink with mild casualness, clearly enjoying her irritation.

"I thought it might help to soften the blow of disappointment a little." And disappointing it was. Elin knew now that this was most likely her punishment for her outburst at Davidson. Now she'd have to deal with the insufferable captain for who knew how long.

"Anyway," Plunkett said, while getting to his feet. He drained the last of the coffee in a few gulps before setting down the mug. "_Waterloo_ ships in a few hours, so I need to go prepare. No rest for the wicked eh, Shepard?" He shot her a mock salute before swaggering out of the cafe.

"Well that just ruined my day." She muttered to herself.


	3. Bits and Pieces

**Disclaimer:** This story is based in Bioware's universe of Mass Effect. I do not own any of the characters, names, or places from the Mass Effect universe. This is simply my interpretation of the events that took place on Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. All original characters and places are of my own creation, and all errors or inconsistencies are of course my own fault.

**Bits and Pieces**

Salora's Cafe, Elysium, 1015 hours, GST

Elin finished the egg sandwich and, pushing the plate away she reached for her datapad with a contented sigh. After Plunkett had left she'd assuaged her displeasure by ordering another coffee and then a breakfast platter on his tab. _He's just received a new posting after all, he can foot the bill,_ she thought savagely. It was petty, she knew, but it certainly made her feel better.

She propped the datapad up against the coffee mug and called up the messages that had come through with the latest transmissions burst. There was one from Captain Davidson to all of Dunkirk'screw giving a detailed update of ongoing ship repairs. Dunkirk_ will be in drydock at Rendar for three more days. All personnel are required to report for duty aboard the _Dunkirk_ on the 15th at 0800 hours. The _Dunkirk _is scheduled for the post-repair shakedown run on the 16th in orbit around Elysium. If systems are go, we'll be shipping out on standard patrol in the Verge. All personnel be advised that merc activity in the Verge has increased since the start of the pirate suppression operations. I'll need you all at your best. _Davidson's report was short and sweet which was usual for the man. She wasn't looking forward to the nine week patrol.

Shepard was just about to check the second message when a flash of orange light illuminated everything in the shop for half a second, followed immediately by a shock wave that made the floor leap beneath her feet and the windows shatter in a tinkling cascade. She half fell, half threw herself out of her chair, instinctively flinging her arms up to shield her face from the falling shards. Her right shoulder met the tiled floor hard, but she ignored the pain, turning her face into the same shoulder and covering the back of her head and neck with her arms. Bits of glass rained down, peppering her exposed flesh like an angry and acidic rain.

A second later the world was still again, and Elin realized it actually was raining. _No, wait... not rain, fire extinguishers. _The thought floated vaguely through her mind as she carefully looked up, glass tinkled to the floor when she moved and her arms were covered with a dozen small cuts. She pushed it out of her mind as best she could, cataloguing it with the other aches and pains that were being registered and then ignored, like the dull ache in her right shoulder, and the blinding headache pulsing between her ears. She had thought everything had gone quiet, but as her hearing slowly came back she could hear moans from the others in the cafe and the screams and shouts of people outside. Alarms blared and the sirens from emergency response units almost droned out the short, staccato bursts of gunfire... almost.

Shepard staggered to her feet, more glass crunching under her boots as she took a tentative step away from the table. Her datapad was lying under her overturned chair, it's screen shattered and dark, and her father's copy of _Ulysses_ lay in a pool of water gathering on the floor from the extinguishers overhead. Its cover was tattered and the ink was bleeding off the old pages. She spared it not a second thought, she was used to losing things, it was now just one more thing on the list.

Salora was on her feet as well, trying to help a man lift a fallen book shelf off his chest. Elin moved over to help, grabbing one side, and together they lifted the heavy shelves, pushing them off to the side.

"Thanks." He said, knocking a few books aside so he could stand up.

"What happened?" Salora asked, directing the question at the lieutenant. Shepard walked over to the glassless windows and looked out towards the space port. Salora followed her while her two sisters helped the rest of the customers, one of them had a med kit open at her feet and was administering medi-gel to a human woman who was bleeding profusely from a gash in her side. Dark clouds were billowing upwards from the monstrous flames that had engulfed the space port. This close to the window they could clearly hear the gunfire. A small vessel soared overhead. It looked like an old merchant freighter, but custom laser cannons that hung off the sides gave it away.

"Mercs." Shepard said. Salora's eyes widened.

"That... they'd have to be stupid, with Rendar in orbit they can't hope to raid the colony!" Elin glanced at the asari. She had blood on her lip. It was blue, and the lieutenant thought that very odd. But she had a point, the mercs wouldn't raid Elysium with Rendar so close. Which meant, the space port wasn't the first thing they'd hit. _Three warships in drydock at Rendar (including the _Dunkirk_ and _Waterloo_, two on orbital patrol, and whatever else just happens to be passing through. Neutralize the base, then hit the port ground side to neutralize the EPF gunships. _It was how she'd do it... but that was a lot for a merc group to take on. In fact, that would require a whole fucking fleet. _I need to find out what's going on._

"Does this building have a shelter?" Shepard asked. In her head she could hear her father shouting; _Sara, you and Elly run for the shelter. Quick! GO! They're coming! _She shied away from the memory.

"There's a storage room below ground where we keep our supplies." Salora answered.

"Good enough." Elin turned back to look at the asari that was helping the injured woman. "Is she stablized?" The blue-violet head bobbed in answer. "Good, get everyone into the supply room then, and keep your heads down til this is over." Salora and her sisters helped their patrons to their feet and shuffled towards a door behind the counter. When the door closed behind the last person, Elin drew her side arm and stepped out into the street. She hoped to hell the blast at the spaceport hadn't taken out the hotel. She had a feeling she was really going to need her gear.


	4. Traffic Jam

**Author's Note: **_I apologize to those of you who'd been reading this fic. I didn't mean to take so long the fourth part, but between having a horrible case of writer's block and crap piling up the past month or so I've just been uninspired. So again, sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy this and reviews are always appreciated!_

**Disclaimer:** This story is based in Bioware's universe of Mass Effect. I do not own any of the characters, names, or places from the Mass Effect universe. This is simply my interpretation of the events that took place on Elysium during the Skyllian Blitz. All original characters and places are of my own creation, and all errors or inconsistencies are of course my own fault. 

**Traffic Jam**

Just outside the Alliance Goldfield Hotel, Elysium, 1036 hours, GST

There were bodies in the street outside the shattered revolving doors of the Goldfield Hotel. Some were burned, having been caught in the open when the spaceport was attacked; the heat of the blast and the enormous shock wave hadn't been enough to vaporize at this distance, but without the aid of combat armor, nearly impossible to survive. Several of the bodies were unburned though, and bore the gaping holes of assault rifle fire. Killed after the blast, gunned down as they ran into the street in a panic. The smoke and stench of burning flesh, oil, metals, plastics and a dozen other things never meant to burn choked the air. Elin was finding it very hard to breathe.

There were several overturned vehicles in the road and on the sidewalks; one was a mountain of fire sending a black fountain of smoke skyward like a miniature volcano. Shepard hunkered down behind a speeder that was lying upside down nearly ten yards away from the fuming wreck to her right. It felt like she was standing next to a sun. Beads of sweat formed on her face and then dried before they had a chance to roll down her forehead and cheeks. She scanned the road ahead, peering over the top of the speeder towards the sound of the firefight that pierced through the steady roar of flame nearby.

There were two men pinned down inside the lobby of the Goldfield, firing sporadically at the small group of mercenaries in the street. She caught a glimpse of the letters EPF as one of them popped into the doorway to send a salvo of bullets out into the street. _Elysium Police Force, _she thought quickly as the man jerked back around the corner to avoid the return fire. There were six mercs, all armored and armed with assault rifles and several had shotguns hooked onto the backplates of their armor as well. Two of them were distinctly turian. The rest of the mercs could be human... _or they might be batarian... _that thought was a bitter one. They had flipped several of the empty vehicles over and formed a barricade so that the cars and speeders were facing towards the cops. They were obviously lacking in any heavy ordnance, otherwise they would have just lobbed a couple grenades or launched a rocket or two into the lobby to get rid of the pesky EPF officers. Instead they seemed content to trade potshots, confident their numbers would eventually wear the other men down. _Or they have more people on the way, or even a group headed around to the back of the building to take the officers from behind._

Shepard had two advantages, the first being the mercs had no idea she was there, and the second was that they ALL had their backs to her. Neither point was a comfort considering the only thing protecting her from gunfire was her fatigues, and her only weapons were her standard issue sidearm, the Hahne-Kedar, Kessler I and her omni-tool. That gave her fourteen rapid fire shots before the pistol would over heat, a few more if she lengthened the time between those shots, and a single incinerate blast with the omni-tool that would require six seconds to recharge enough to be useful again. If she concentrated on one of the mercs she could drop his shields with the omni-tool and hopefully pierce his armor and do vital damage before the pistol overheated and the others turned around. Of course, when they _did_ turn around she would be positively screwed. Simple as that.

"Well, shit." Elin muttered to herself.

A strangled yell cut through her thoughts as one of the officers staggered sideways, his shields had been dropped and he'd taken a round in the shoulder. His partner pulled him back before any more shots could strike home. His shout was answered by derisive laughter from the mercs, and safely hidden behind a turned over car, one mockingly imitated the cop flailing around in pain. Shepard grimaced at the display and her fingers tightened on the pistol, the smooth grip slick with sweat from her palm. _The car..._ that was it. Decision firmed as she prepped the omni-tool, and it sprang to life, glowing a golden orange around her left hand and forearm. She couldn't hit too high, or too low... she only had one shot.

Elin ducked out from behind her cover, taking careful aim. The omni-tool flared to life, plasma energies gathering along its length then surging forward as she punched her left fist towards the car and the mercs with a small grunt of concentrated effort. The volatile ball of energy hissed away from her, trailing long golden streaks in its wake. An instant later it impacted into the fusion containment cell on the exposed underside of the vehicle and the explosion sent all six of the mercs flying backwards.

_One, one-thousand._

Their armor flared with light as their shields overloaded and she opened fire, concentrating on one of the turians who'd hit the ground with a painful crunch.

_Two, one-thousand._

Two shots busted the protective faceplate and the third exploded into his nasal cavity. He went limp, quite obviously dead.

_Three, one-thousand._

Shepard switched targets, still moving towards the next downed speeder. It seemed a lot further now that she was out in the open.

_Four, one-thousand._

The second turian was down after three more shots. But there were only three targets left when there should have been four.

_Five, one-thousand. _

Bullets whipped by her head uncomfortably close and she fired wildly in the direction they were coming from. She was still feet from the nearest cover. The fourth merc dropped and she hadn't even been shooting at him.

_Six, one-thousand._

The omni-tool beeped, signaling it was recharged and she launched another incinerate blast at the merc who was firing at her. Elin didn't watch its trajectory but turned to dive behind the overturned speeder. A startled gasp escaped her lips as pain pierced the back of her left leg and she rolled into cover. She could hear and feel return fire from the last remaining merc impacting into the speeder she was hiding behind, then all of a sudden it stopped. She checked her leg, blood was oozing out of her ripped fatigues, but she'd been lucky, the bullet had grazed deeply along her calf, instead of impacting. She didn't dwell on how close it had been though.

"EPF armed police!" The shout broke the silence. "Identify yourself or we will open fire!" Elin let out an irritated sigh before replying.

"I'm Lieutenant Elin Shepard with the Alliance. I thought you boys could use the help." There was a seconds delay.

"Come out with your hands where we can see them!" _This is not my day, _she thought as she holstered her pistol and gingerly got to her feet. Testing her leg she was pleased to find she could put all her weight on it, though it did burn like fire. Elin inched out from behind the vehicle holding her hands up and in front of her. The cop in riot gear kept his assault rifle trained on her for a moment before deciding she obviously wasn't a mercenary and lowered the rifle. 

"I'm Sergeant Raimey with the Elysium Police Force. It's damn good to finally see someone from the Alliance ma'am." The officer said as she walked with a small limp towards him. "Did you catch our distress call?"

"Afraid not Sarge." They made their way to the entrance of the hotel. "What's your status?"

"We've got a hundred and seven civilians holed up inside and not a damn one of 'em knows anything about fire arms." He growled. "Most were injured in the initial explosion. We got 'em out of the street and inside right before those bastards showed up and took us by surprise. I've lost four men, Lieutenant and I've been unable to contact my precinct captain on the wireless. Hell I thought we were toast til you showed up and provided such a lovely distraction for those mercs." They stepped inside and she saw the other officer who'd been shot, sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. "How's that shoulder Dennings?" The injured man looked up, he'd taken his helmet off and his sweat slicked hair was hanging in his eyes.

"Managed to stop the bleeding, Sarge." He huffed out, obviously in pain. "Bastard hit me right between the plates." Raimey clapped him on his good shoulder before turning back to Elin and motioned her to walk a little further into the disheveled lobby so they couldn't be overheard.

"I ain't gonna lie Lieutenant, the situation's bad." _This man's a master at understatement, _she thought. "I got a lotta people here who need medical attention, and the hotel didn't have much of a medi-gel supply to start with. I can't reach my superiors, there's mercs shooting everything that moves in the streets, and I've lost over half my squad. Now what I need is for someone to tell me what the _hell _is going on here."

"I'd love to Sergeant." Shepard started, trying to keep her temper on a short leash. _He's having a bad day too after all... _"But thirty minutes ago, I was reading a private message and drinking coffee in the cafe down the street, while enjoying my shore leave. I'm in the dark on this as much as you are. I only came this way so I could grab _my_ gear and try to contact _my _superiors." This obviously wasn't what Raimey wanted to hear.

"Son of a bitch." he muttered. "What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

"Stay inside, fortify your position and wait for the Alliance to send help."

"I've got people dying here Shepard, they need doctors."

"We don't have any doctors Sergeant. You'll have to make do with what you _do_ have."

"We don't have _anything." _He all but shouted. Elin grabbed him angrily by the shoulders and pulled his face close to hers.

"Well what do you want to do Raimey, herd all one hundred and seven unarmed and injured civilians out into the street and across town to the medcenter?" She growled quietly. "It's about a twelve mile hike east, once you get past the burning spaceport and trigger happy mercenaries." She let go and he jerked back with a glare. Raimey opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted as his communicator cackled to life.

_"This is... enant Plunkett, Allianc... avy... vo, tango, niner, to any... liance personnel groundsi... ease respond, I repea... se respond."_


End file.
